The Gambler
by Jotasta
Summary: "You're the love of my life, you know that I will never leave your side," -fun. Spitfire oneshot. Wally and Artemis have been together for many years now, when a terrible accident leaves their relationship quite changed.


The old woman hobbled through the kitchen, her gnarled hands gripping her walker tightly. She hated it- the way she was completely helpless without it, the way she was weak and frail. Her kids, long out of the house and starting families of their own, try their best to help, but distance and lives get in the way.  
She shakily opened the medicine cabinet, pouring an array of pills into the palm of her hand. Heart medicine, painkiller for her back, vitamins... It had grown too much to keep track of after the number of pills excedded three. Despite her aging, she had retained her vision and hearing remarkably. "Senses are keener than a hawks," the doctor joked, recieving a famous scathing glare from the half-vietnamese woman.  
"Wally, I think I need even more pills," she called half jokingly, swallowing down the last of her heart medication. "Almost out," she said, smiling at the figure on the couch. Wally had taken to watching the news, seeing the next generation of heroes take over.  
"Again? Gonna be the death of me, woman," he chuckled, letting out a grunt as he lifted himself and made room for her, settling on the edge of the loveseat. Artemis settled in beside him, putting her walker aside. He held locked his fingers in hers, putting an arm around her frail shoulders. Despite their aging and changing bodies, nothing had changed. The same joking fights ensued, the same spark. They had always loved each other, always.  
Wally kissed her soft cheek, taking in her scent. She smelled lovely, as usual. Artemis smiled, leaning against him. Today was one of her off days, she could tell already. Exhausted already from those few steps- how sad. She spent most of her days now remembering, bringing back memories of when they were young and agile. She felt that Wally did this often too, but never voiced it.  
"I have to pee," she said, grimacing as she struggled to get up. Her husband, being more agile as he was gifted with the power of superspeed, made a move to get up. "No, I got it." she snapped, finally hoisting herself to standing. She could handle herself just fine, even with a walker.  
"Don't get lost," Wally said, muting the TV. Artemis rolled her eyes, an uncharacteristically immature thing to do; the action looked just plain wrong when an old woman did it. Her head spun, terribly so that she had to slow down to a scoot, the left wheel of her walker squeaking pathetically.  
"Oh, Wally," she whimpered, voice weak, before collapsing on the ground, world going black.

Wally wrung his hands as he saw the woman he loved carried away into an ambulance, tubes and breathing apparatuses connected to her as if she were a robot. She looked so pale, so weak. Her olive skin now looked ghoatly white, face gaunt with age.  
When had they gotten so old? How had time just flown right through their grasp? Wasn't it just yesterday they were bickering, fighting, and snapping?  
Wasn't it just yesterday when they had shared their first kiss, their first moment of love on New Years right after saving the Earth?  
When they moved into a house in California together, studying together. When he got down on one knee, giving her his entire life and dedication. When she was in the delivery room, giving birth to a baby girl. When he held his daughter, unable to contain his tears when he looked into eyes that matched his own. When he and Artemis gave a standing ovation to their daughter, valedictorian of her graduating class.  
Where had time gone? Like everything else in his life, it had gone much too fast.

"Move, move, old man coming through," he barked, whacking doctors and nurses out of the way with his cane as he hurried down the hallway of the ICU. Artemis had suffered a heart attack.  
His baby could be dying.  
He felt his knees ache, but that only pushed him faster. The cab driver had taken long enough to get to thr hospital, Wally only paying because he had to. People nowadays.  
"Artemis?" He said, knocking on the door the receptionist said his wife was. He didn't hear a response, so he walked in without a second thought.  
Artemis looked even worse than before, face drawn. Her beautiful lips were pale and chapped, eyebrows knit in concetration. She was trying her best to stay awake, stay breathing.  
"Baby," he cooed softly, dragging a chair up to her bed. Artemis made a small noise, holding a shaking hand out for Wally to hold, an IV tucked into her vein. "Baby," he said again, gingerly taking her hand. A tear found its way out of his sleepy emerald eyes, weaving its way through the wrinkles that crisscrossed his face.  
"Dont cry, geek," Artemis hushed, letting go of his hand and running it through his thin hair. "I'm fine," She was saying it for the both of them- her breathing was labored and her heartbeat was weak. The beeps on the machine were slow and sporadic, the heartbeats uneven. Somehow they both knew that this was the end.  
"I love you," Wally said quietly, "I love you so much, Artemis,"  
Artemis smiled, looking into his eyes. They had kept the same brilliant shade he had had since the awkward age of fifteen. "I love you too, Baywatch." She returned her hand to his, trying to squeeze it. The world seemed to shimmer at the edges, as she were in a dream. The words at her lips turned to quivers as her vision seemed to grow dim, dimmer...  
Wally let out a choked sob as the machine counted her too-slow heartbeat, the beeps slowing until it flatlined, emitting a monotone beep. Her hand went limp, but wally didn't let go. He would never let go.

_"Daddy, will you help me play dress up?" his daughter sang, holding out a feather boa. Her eyes were the mirror image of his, hair a strawberry blonde that was gorgeous against her radiant skin. His daughter was only six years old, but she was convinced that she was a 'thirteen year old superstar ninja,'_  
_"Um," Wally said, looking up from sewing his Flash costume, "Doesn't mommy want to?"_  
_ As much as he loved paying with his baby girl, he didn't want to be caught in a too-small leotard and tutu again. Artemis had taken pictures of him when he didn't notice, posting them on facebook. Dick the dickface had held those photos against him for months. _  
_"She says you would," her face gropped along with the boa, lip jutting out in a signature pout. "Laaa-aame."_  
_ "Yeah daddy, don't you want to play dress-up?" Artemis's voice said from behind them. Wally turned around, fighting back laughter. She had allowed their daughter to give her a complete makeover, head to foot. Her eyes were smeared with over-applicated eyeshadow, the powder going well above the eyebrow. Her lips were a gaudy shade of red, the color smeared up to her nose. Though she looked pleasent, she was shooting daggers at Wally with her stormy grey eyes. _  
_ "Oh, fine," Wally gave in, setting down the flash suit. "Hand it over,"_  
_Giving out a cry of joy, his daughter flung the boa at him, sprinting to get more props of excitement or torture, depending how the viewer looked at it. _  
_ "No pictures," He said, finally letting out a snort. The snort turned into uncontrollable laughter, the kind that hurt your stomach and constricted your breathing. Artemis, not finding the situation anywhere near as funny, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?" she asked after Wally finally collected himself, sniffing and wiping away a tear. _  
_ "Yep, sorry babe," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. He could practically feel her roll her eyes again. _  
_ "Love you," he offered, kissing her over-blushed cheek. She sighed, "Love you too, Wall-man."_

The sky was overcast as the old man hobbled to the gravestone, a deep green marble one with the name "Artemis Crock," etched on it in ornate letters. The date of her death was carved underneath the day she first opened her eyes to the world, a day blessed with her existence.  
He held a boquet of flowers in his gnarled hands, his palms permanently calloused from years of wear and tear. He took a shaky breath as he set the boquet on the earth that lay in front of the stone, the grass having already grown over the mound pf soil unearthed when his wife was buried.  
"Today, Nelson the Third dug up your rosebush. Damned dog," he started, adjusting his coat as the warm summer day seemed eerily cold, "I tried replanting it, don't know if it'll make it. I'm not good with plants like you were. Our babygirl stopped by today." His throat seemed tight, but he took a shaky breath and continued talking to his deceased wife, "She brought her husband, and their kids. Rowdy bunch, comes from both sides."  
He choked up then, unable to form any more words. It had been a mere month, his whole world falling apart within those thirty something days. With visiting family and friends, he hadn't found time to visit her grave as often as he wanted to. Every time he went, he told her about his day. Even if she couldn't hear him, he enjoyed getting it off his shoulders. If she could... Great.  
He kneeled then, running his hand over the smooth, cool marble. It made the sadness ebb, even in the smallest bit. "I miss you, Artemis," he whispered, leaning his head against the headstone, "I miss you so much."

_"So just take my hand and know that I will never leave your side_  
_You're the love of my life, you know that I will never leave your side"_  
**-The Gambler**  
**Fun.**


End file.
